Kings of the Air
by MikuoInWonderland
Summary: It was then you knew for sure that you were in love with Tim Drake, even if he did like Kesha.
1. Prologue

**Kings Of The Air**  
**Prologue**

It was the coldest night of the winter so far- earlier you heard a man telling his wife he'd go so far as to say it was the coldest night Gotham would ever see. You don't quite believe that, but there was absolutely no way you could take that chance. You'd freeze to death sleeping outside, and you had to survive. You had nothing to live for, but you were scared of death. Were you braver, there was no doubt in your mind you would have shot yourself in the head long before now. But three years on the streets had honed your survival instincts, and you knew what had to be done. Nobody in The Narrows was about to let a homeless kid into their home. They weren't compassionate and they weren't naive. If they did it once, they'd have to do it again and again, and eventually they'd wake up one morning with the TV missing and the window smashed. The most attractive option would be to rent a cheap motel room, but without any money, that was impossible. You needed someone to rent it for you, and the only way anybody would do that would be if you were going to give them something in return.

You hated that you were stooping so low. You hated the older man on top of you for doing something so disgusting. You knew that word would get out, and you knew that when it did, your reputation would be set in stone. Jason Todd- rent boy. Cheap one at that. You gave it about two days, four at the most, before you were being approached by men again. Six before you end up being pimped out. If there was ever a time to kill yourself, it would be now, you kept thinking. The pain was excruciating. But the man didn't care to ask before if you were a virgin, and didn't slow down when you began to bleed. He took your moans of pain for moans of pleasure, and it only gave him the drive to speed up. The worst thing was, you knew him. Not personally, but it was hard to not know him when his face was plastered all over billboards and magazines. He was the talk of Gotham, and he should be more careful about what people see or hear him do with thirteen year old boys. There were two things you wanted to do at that moment; the first thing was to stick your thumbs in his eyes and hear them pop, hear him scream in agony. The other was to scream at the top of your lungs for help. You pictured somebody running into the room, you imagined them recognising the man on top of you, and you imagined watching as he was carted away by the police. But you didn't dare do any of those things, because you knew the chances of them playing out as they had in your head were slim. Instead you closed your eyes and braced yourself as he began to quicken his pace.

Eventually he finished, and he climbed off of you. He smiled at you, and you didn't hide your disgust. Every woman in Gotham thought he was attractive. But to you, after what he just did, he was nothing but ugly. How could he smile, having just robbed a thirteen year old boy of his purity? Asshole. He threw a ten dollar bill next to you and dressed. He told you to keep the room and left. You didn't get up from the bed for a while, but before long you started to feel the blood drying on your leg and you realised you were covered in his filth. You got up and painfully made your way to the bathroom. As you entered, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the dirtied mirror. You had never been particularly fond of yourself, but you never realised how much you loathed yourself untill now. Your hair was greasy with sweat and sticking out at every possible angle. You were paler than usual- which is saying something- and on your neck was a slowly forming bruise. You hadn't even realised he had done it. He had branded you as his. Eventually you brought yourself to tear your eyes away and start the shower. You managed to scrub yourself clean with the old bar of soap, but you were still in pain. As you were slowly shuffling back into the bed, you felt something sharp dig into the bottom of your bare foot. You cursed, and looked down at the badge on the floor. Curiosity getting the better of you, you bent over (bad idea, you berated yourself.) and picked it up. The golden words glinted at you, reflecting the fluorescent light that was flickering about you. You felt a bit sick, to be reminded of him again so soon, but you didn't drop it. You didn't even move. You just read the words over and over.

_Vote Harvey Dent_, they demanded.

* * *

Your birthday was the 16th of August and you celebrated it alone. The warmer months made finding a place to sleep easier, and you did not need to sell yourself tonight. You wouldn't have anyway, not on your birthday. Instead, you found solace in the store room of a hardware store which had been shut down for the winter months. It was cramped and stuffy, and you had a hard time getting comfortable, but it was dry, and so it exceeded your standards. You had made yourself a little bed out of flattened cardboard boxes, and as you lay on it, you couldn't help your mind wandering to past birthdays. You never had birthday parties because you never had many friends, but they were always fun anyway. You think back to your fifth birthday- or was it your sixth? Either way, your parents had taken you out for a meal to celebrate. You were obviously oblivious to the fact that your dad wouldn't be spending any more birthdays with you, or you would have made more of an effort to talk to him. That used to be your biggest regret. Not spending enough time with him. But you were young, a toddler. He wouldn't have held it against you.

I wonder what he would say if he could see me now, you wonder as your eyes follow a fly buzzing around the blinking light bulb. You entertain the thought that he would be proud of your ability to survive so long on the streets of the shadiest place in Gotham City. You like to think he would pat you on the back or ruffle your hair or do whatever it is dads do when they're proud of their sons. You like to think he would take you home to your little house and your mom would be waiting in her favourite chair and she'd hug you tight like the time you came home after running away for a few hours when you were seven and she would tell you never to scare her like that again and everything would be back to normal. You like to think your mother would stroke your hair and lie with you after you woke up from a particularly bad nightmare and tell you it's ok honey, the men can't hurt you now. But it was all wishful thinking, and you knew that, and the fact you knew that just made you angry. You knew your dad would never be proud because if he was proud, he wouldn't have killed himself. He wouldn't of left you all alone. And you knew if your mom was worried about you, you wouldn't have had to walk in on her lying, twitching in a pile of vomit and cocaine. They didn't care about you. If they cared they would have been brave. They would have faced their problems like any rational human being and persevered for your sake. But they gave up. You sighed. You had the annoying habit of not letting yourself be happy. Fond memories turned into anger so quickly. Eventually, you grew restless, and got up. You realized you didn't have any money to buy tomorrow's meal, and sigh. There must be something you can do for money that doesn't involve sex. You suppose you'll just have to go hungry tomorrow.

Happy fucking birthday to you.

You slipped out of the store room and began to peak around, looking for anything you may be able to sell. There wasn't much though, because if anybody wanted to buy tools or anything, they'd go to another hardware store, not some kid on the street, so you decided to look for tools you could use to steal. You used to be hesitant to sell stolen goods, but now you've done so many horrible things that your morals are practically non-existent. You gathered up quite a few things that could come in handy, and returned to your makeshift bed, making plans in your head of what to take and lists of who sell it to. As you settled down in the uncomfortable bed, and as your eyes flickered shut, you couldn't help but wonder if life would get any better. So far, it had been shit. Who knows, though? Maybe one day you'll be a billionaire.


	2. Chapter 1

**Kings Of The Air**

**Chapter One**

Your name is Jason Todd and you have a lot of pent up anger, so you're taking the safest route when it comes to expressing it. You're in the gym, beating a very unfortunate punching bag to a pulp. You've never been Bruce Wayne's biggest fan, but every time he begins to redeem himself, he does something so goddamn fucking stupid that your opinion of him plummets. You know exactly what was going on when you saw him walk through the door with that baby-faced boy with blue eyes, which you think you stared into for at least five minutes. You knew he had taken in another stray. He had adopted you two years ago, and your 'brother', Dick three years before that. That was one - perhaps the only one - thing you admired about Bruce; his willingness to take teenagers under his wing, rather than cute babies and chubby toddlers.

Obviously it wasn't the fact that he adopted this new boy, Tim, that bothered you. No, it was the fact he didn't consult anyone about it. He didn't ask you, he didn't ask if you would be comfortable, and you know he knows you have issues around new people. It didn't help that when he had introduced the two of you and you had just grunted he told Tim it was okay and that you'd get used to him. It was very likely you wouldn't. You hadn't gotten used to Dick or Bruce yet. There were only three people on the planet you would admit you were close with, and one of them was Alfred, the butler of Wayne Manor. He was so kind though, that he was friends with everybody. None of the residents at the manor thought of Alfred as a butler anymore. He was more of a father to everyone, especially to Bruce. He had raised him since he was young and his parents were shot dead in an ally. There's a very large portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne in the manor, and lots of smaller photographs, and Bruce still cringed when he saw that ally. Dick would feign sympathy and act as if he missed them, which to you, was the most moronic thing anyone could do. If you were Bruce, you'd have confronted him about it already. All he was doing was disrespecting them. You'd never explicitly say it, but Bruce was well aware they were nothing more to you than oil paint and a ridiculously overpriced frame. The allyway they were shot in did bring back painful memories, but they were memories of your own. You had met a few clients there, and you cant remember if it was that one or the ally behind the bakery, but you may have even done your thing there.

You realise you've long since stopped hitting, and you run your hands through your bangs. You hadn't been punching the bag for very long, but you had managed to work up a sweat, and your hair was almost dripping. You turn around and start. Leaning against the doorframe was the douche bag to end all douche bags. Dick Grayson smiled as he saw you gawking at him.

"Hey bro," He waved casually. His smile was so annoying. He did this weird thing where his eyes literally closed and he had dimples, only they weren't cute dimples. They were probably the ugliest thing you'd ever seen. One of your three friends was fascinated with those dents in his face though, and the two of you had held many friendly debates on whether or not they added to his attractiveness. She always won, because she actually gave a shit.

"I'm not your bro." You mumbled. "Were you watching me?"

"For a while." You wish he'd stop smiling because you really want to hit him.

"Creep." You start to walk towards the entrance, but he moves so he's blocking the whole thing.

"Have you considered boxing? I know you're not into sparring, but-"

"I don't want to box."

"Wouldn't you rather go to box and fight worthy opponents than pick fights with kids at school?" Dick asks, and you can't tell if he's teasing you or just naturally mean.

"I do not 'pick fights'." You spit. "When have I ever picked a fight? I just don't take any shit."

"You fought Roy like, two weeks ago over nothing," Dick pointed out.

"That's Roy though, he's my best friend, and he's very easy to get angry at. Don't you and Wally ever fight? Or Garfield, or whoever your friends are." You ask. You do remember the fight you and Roy had. You beat him up at lunch one Monday because he skipped the period before to get high in the bathroom. You beat him up because he was trying to stop doing drugs so often and he completely fallen off the wagon. He deserved that, but you weren't going to explain it to Dick. It was your business.

"Fair enough. You should still consider boxing though. It would help you get out some of your anger." Dick's smile wavered a bit when you glared up at him. What was he doing? He knows that you don't like to speak about your anger issues, and he knows what kind of things speaking about them can trigger.

"Get the fuck out of my way." You say through gritted teeth. He raises his hands and scoots out of the doorway. At least he knew what he did.

You thunder through the corridor, thinking of at least five ways to brutally murder Dick. You're thinking of alibis when you reach the stairs. You dislike Dick for a number of reasons, but the thing you hate the most about him is the fact nobody else hates him. Nobody else sees him for what he really is. He's so perfect, so popular, so smart. You're none of those things. Dick is the level Bruce sets his standards to, and so Dick is the only one who can ever meet them. You used to like him, envy him slightly. The two of you were almost friends. But there's only so many times you can be told you should be more like someone before you begin to resent them. You're staring at the ground as you march up the stairs, and you don't notice another pair of feet heading in your direction till it's too late.

"Sorry!" Tim shrieks, and when he looks up, his eyes grow wide. "Shit, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to.. I should be more.."

Is he scared of you? Aw, how cute.

"Don't worry 'bout it, my fault." You grunt, and walk around him. You feel his eyes burning into the back of you untill you reach the top. What is with that kid?

You shower as quickly as possible and lay down on your bed, clad only in a towel. This is a usual practice for you, and everyone who lives in Wayne Manor (sans Tim, of course) has seen you in some state of undress before, so you don't care to lock the door. You lie there for a good while, and every blink lasts increasingly longer. Eventually you give up and allow yourself to fall asleep. You don't get a nightmare, for once. You just get fragments. Your parents smiling. Ugly men looking you up and down. Bruce. Tim looking up to you with wide eyes. Dick watching you work out. Every image was quickly interrupted by another, until it's just a blur of faces. Some of them you don't even know. Then you hear Alfred's voice calling out to you, and your eyes flicker open. The friendly man is standing over you.

"Master Jason, it is time for you to dress for dinner." He informs you, before turning to leave.

"Will Bruce be eating with us today?" You ask groggily. If he wasn't, you'd be allowed to take the meal to your bedroom. Alfred must sense this is why you're asking because he tells you he's afraid so.

You didn't dress up for dinner like Bruce and Dick would. It was only Bruce and Dick. Instead, you have a pair of sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt. You're not wearing socks and you don't remember if you put any boxers on. It was only Bruce and Dick. Everyone has already began dinner when you enter, and you mutter an apology.

"How was your nap?" Bruce asks. He means to ask if you had any nightmares.

"Fine." You reply, not looking up from the food you had began to shovel onto your plate. As you briefly look up, you notice somebody staring across at you. He blushes and looks down as you meet his icy blue eyes, and you can't believe you forgot about him. He's wearing a blue plaid shirt, and it only makes his eyes more intense. You realise he's probably just taking note of your casual appearance, because Dick's wearing some ugly white cotton shirt and Bruce is wearing a suit that's probably ridiculously over priced, even though it's no different from any other suit out there.

The table is silent, and that's when it's the best. You can joke around with Bruce just fine when it's the two of you. In fact, sometimes you enjoy his company. But the idle chat at the dinner table is torture, so you don't attempt to start any conversations. You need to cherish every moment of silence in this household. It's very rare. You keep chewing at the vegetables, but they taste like shit. Not because Alfred can't cook; he could give any gourmet chef a run for his money, it's just you're not in the mood to eat.

"How's school?" Bruce asks. It was nice while it lasted.

"I have a bio test tomorrow, actually." Dick says. "I stayed up all last night studying, and I'll probably end up doing that tonight too. I'm just worried it wont be enough."

You stare at him as if he's grown an extra head. "Are you serious? Of course you're going to pass, when don't you pass tests? Looking at the front cover of a textbook is enough studying for you."

"Aw, I dunno about that." Dick scratches the back of his head and smiles. Oh god, please don't take it as a compliment. If your ego get's any bigger, it'll crush us all. "I'm not very good at sciences."

"Since when? You-" You start, but you catch Alfred's eye. You know better than to start an argument at the dinner table in the Englishman's presence, so you drop it. "Whatever. Good luck, I guess." Not like the golden boy will need any.

And then the atmosphere reverts back to awkward. The scratching of knives and forks get to be too much for Dick, though.

"How's life in the manner been treating you, Tim?" Dick asks.

"Well.." Tim paused to gulp, and he steals a glance at you again. It makes your heart quicken a bit every time he does that. Is it making you angry? "It's amazing, really. I love it. But it doesn't seem real." Dick beams, and Bruce looks pleased, so you force a smile out too. You've been in his shoes, so you should give him a bit of support. You just wonder how long it'll take him to drop the 'it's like a dream' act and admit he hates it here. It took you a weekend. You doubt he's genuine. It's an impressive building, but the relationships in the Wayne-Grayson-Todd-Drake family were a bit less than healthy. Hero worship, obsessive pride, loathing and intimidation did not make for a happy family. If he does like it here, he'll grow out of it,

Then Bruce says something stupid again.

"Dick, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Tim. I'm sorry he's here, but I couldn't leave him. I hope you understand." He says from his spot at the head of the table. "I apologise to you too, Jason."

You ignore the fact you were but an afterthought, but you prayed to every god that Tim didn't pick up on the fact he said 'Sorry he's here.' You so hope he didn't hear that. Honestly Bruce, how could you say that? You look across the table to see the thin boy chew on his bottom lip, suddenly very interested in the pattern on the table cloth.

Shit.

That apology should have made you happy. He was apologising for all the things that angered you in the first place. But there was something about the way he said I'm sorry Tim's here that just made you want to smack him.

"We understand." Dick smiles. Speak for yourself you little shit. You don't answer. You're still partly in awe at how absolutely dense Bruce could be at times. For a man with such a high IQ, he was such a moron.

"Jay, are you listening? I know this is upsetting to you, but-"

There's a bang on the table.

"Shut the fuck up." You hiss. "How dare you say you're sorry he's here?! How dare you? Do you have any idea how that'd make him feel? He must feel so alone as it is, and you're making it ten times worse, all because you couldn't wait till he'd even left the room before you make sure perfect little Dick was comfortable if he was here? Would you send him away if Dick said it wasn't okay?"

Your vision becomes clouded and you try at least four shrink-recommended methods of calming before you just give up.

Dick is staring at you with a slack jaw that you so desperately want to break, Alfred's hands are knitted together tightly, Bruce looks calm, but his eyes are wounded. Tim's shoulder's are hunched, and you know he thinks that he's breaking up the family or some shit. He's not, this is a common occurrence. Probably too common. You turn around and storm out of the room. For a brief moment, you wonder why you care. You guess you just hoped that Bruce didn't adopt another son just to alienate him, and he ended up breaking his record on how quick he can make one of his sons feel unwanted. Whoever made the choice to allow Bruce Wayne to be a father was a total moron. You were so close to just packing a bag and leaving before, but Tim looks pretty young, and clearly he needs someone around to take his feelings into consideration. It sucked, but at least you had a reason to stick around now. You wrench your bedroom door open and slam it shut. You collapse in your desk chair and after a few minutes of brooding, open up your laptop, ready to sacrifice the rest of the night to the gods of gaming.

You manage to get two hours of playing online with Roy in before somebody knocks on your door.

"Come in." You say, not looking up from your laptop. It was probably Dick, and he wasn't quite as important as Minecraft right now. When the door opens and you aren't verbally assaulted, you look up. Tim is standing there, tapping his two index fingers together.

"I just wanted to thank you, and to apologise." He says quietly.

"What for?" You ask, hastily typing a 'be right back, sorry' to Roy and setting down the computer next to you.

"Well, thank you for sticking up for me like that. And I'm sorry you got in an argument with Bruce over me."

You could have laughed. "Don't worry about it. Bruce and I are at each-others throats constantly."

"Oh. Still, it made me feel, like, you know, like someone wanted me here. I dunno if you do or if you're just nice, but..." He trails off.

"I'm not very nice at all." Is all you say, picking up your laptop again.

"Oh." Tim looks confused for a second, then he realises. He smiles. "I'll leave you in peace then."

As he's about to go out the door, you call out to him.

"Yes?" He asks.

"Bruce is shit at parenting, and Dick is very aptly named. But they want you around. They just don't think before they speak. Trust me, you're wanted. You just need to put up with those fucking idiots trying to talk and breath at the same time. Don't take anything they say to heart, or you won't last a second here."

"I'll remember that." He says, and closes the door. You see the corner of his sleeve poking through the doorframe, and chuckle to yourself as it's pulled back out.

He is so fucking adorable.


	3. Chapter 2

**Kings Of The Air**

**Chapter 2**

You met Koriand'r Tamaran at a Die Antwoord concert last summer and she was the first girl to ever give you her number. When you first saw her, you were absolutely smitten. She was the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. Her long hair, red but bleached orange at the end, fell all the way to the small of her back, and her golden skin was covered only by a white playsuit atop a mesh t-shirt. She was next to you during the whole show, the two of you squashed against the barrier together, singing along gleefully. You noticed she sung along in every language thrown at her. Or, she was making it up. Either way, it was impressive. After the concert had ended, she waited with you until Alfred arrived to take you home, but refused a ride. As the sleek black car pulled up, she kissed you on the cheek and slipped a piece of paper into your back pocket. Even as she disappeared into the night, you were in a trance. When you collected yourself and got into the car, you were shot with a knowing look from Alfred and Dick's girlfriend, Barbara. Alfred was taking Barbara home that night, and… well, that's a story for another time. But it worked out well that Kory didn't take you up on the offer.

The two of you had been ecstatic to find out you would be attending the same high school. Phone calls were made and texts were sent, but you had never arranged a date, and eventually the two of you had formed such a strong bond that any sort of romance was out of the question. You were joined at the hip, and when you were with her, you were happy. You exchanged stories on growing up, and neither of you had the best childhood. You told her about your parent's dying and being forced to sell your body to live, and she told you about growing up as Royalty in an African tribe, about her sister being burnt alive for 'being possessed.', and her family being exiled from the Tribe they once commanded. They travelled around Africa without a penny to their name, until her parents could get jobs. Because they were working so hard to keep their children alive, Kory practically raised her little brother Ryand'r. Last summer, they saved enough money to move to America, and the rest was history.

Eventually Bruce took notice of how happy you made each other, and you overheard him asking about her one night when he and Alfred didn't know you were in the next room.

"So, do you think Jason and this… Koriand'r was it?"

"I believe she prefers Kory, sir."

"Well, do you think, maybe, Jason and Kory are.. More than friends?" Bruce has asked. There was a pause, and Alfred sighed.

"Yes." He answered, and you smirked. "But I don't think they're in a relationship, if that's what you're asking. The strength of the bond they share is clear, but I think, though I may be wrong, Ms. Kory is Master Jason's first real friend, and vice versa, I'd assume. Their relationship is more akin to a pair of twins than a pair of lovers."

That was pretty accurate, and it took you by surprise at first, but not for long because Alfred knew everything.

"So you don't think he's… you know…" Bruce had trailed off.

"Sexually active, sir?" Alfred asked casually. "I haven't seen any evidence to say he is."

"I still can't believe I found those… things in Dick's room." Bruce sighed. "I thought he was smarter than that.

"May I remind that Master Dick is sixteen years old, and has a long-term girlfriend? The condoms are probably a hybrid of precaution and wishful-thinking. If he and Barbara are having intercourse, at least he's using protection."

You stopped listening when the subject deterred away from you, because you already knew of Dick's sexual habits and didn't want to be reminded. You had never heard the topic being discussed since, and Bruce eased up around Kory almost straight away. (He was tense as ever around Barbara though, the poor girl.)

It was the following winter you met Roy Harper. He was a complete mess, and though she'd never freely say it, you kind of think Kory took him in as a project. He had no friends and was battling an addiction to heroin, and she was the type who thought she could cure everyone. As for you… you just like to surround yourself with those who are worse off than you. It's a terrible reason, but Roy quickly became your best friend, and he had recovered remarkably. He still relapsed from time to time, and as much as you and Kory pleaded he refused to give up marijuana until he'd beaten the addiction to heroin. One drug at a time, he had joked, but it wasn't very funny.

The three of you found a second family with each other. You often joked that you were like outlaws. Nobody wanted to be friends with a boy with a short temper who could go off any minute. Nobody wanted to be friends with the weird African girl who's skirt was too short. Nobody wanted to be friends with a boy who cut classes to get high in the bathrooms. And teenagers didn't look past the exterior. High school students don't care enough to find out that the boy's parents died and he'd never really gotten over it. That the girl wore her skirt so short because she'd never had the freedom to do that before in her life and there was no way in hell she wasn't going to embrace it. That the other boy was neglected and the drugs were the only thing that made him feel like everything was okay. But you knew that. You understood, and you tolerated each other's flaws- no, you loved them. Because that's what real families do.

"Guys, the best thing that could ever possibly happen to me just happened!" Kory announced as she rushed to your table at the canteen, three days after Tim was adopted. It was the younger boy's first day of school, you noted. He was only fourteen. You sent out a silent prayer. Gotham Academy was _not _kind to freshmen.

The redheaded girl plopped down on the seat opposite you, the contents of her lunch tray shaking. You could only hazard a guess at what her news could be. It was probably something to do with Dick. Maybe they made eye-contact. You took a bite of your rubbery pizza.

"Dick asked me to the Spring Dance!" Kory squealed, and your rubbery pizza slipped down your throat unchewed. You began to splutter unattractively. Roy thumps your back hard, but the pizza was not for coming back up. Kory popped open the tab on her soda and thrust it in front of you, and you hastily gulp nearly half the sugary liquid down. Your shoulders slump in relief as the food slips down your throat and the tightness in your chest loosens.

"Don't get too excited for me." Kory teases.

"Kory, what the hell? That's like me dating Ryand'r!" You accuse, glaring at the girl.

"Um, no. Ryand'r is twelve and immature. Dick's seventeen and gorgeous." Her eyes gloss over, and you fear she's gone for good.

"He's also got quite the reputation as a player." Roy adds, smirking at the scenario. He was loving this, you could sense it. Oh, how you'd love to punch him, but it would be socially unacceptable to attack him unprovoked.

"He's just misunderstood." Kory defends. You'd love to punch her, too, but that's even less socially acceptable. "It's a front! He sleeps with all those girls because he has commitment issues!"

"Oh, bullshit." You scoff. "He was with Barbara Gordon for like, two years, and every relationship he's attempted afterwards has ended with him going back to her. That's pretty committed, I think."

Kory doesn't reply, and continues not replying for the rest of the lunch break, so you and Roy ignore her presence completely. But for the rest of the day, you can't get the image of her on your brother's arm out of your head for the rest of the day.

She flounced past you in homeroom the next morning without her usual smile and wave, and ignored you asking for her help in Maths. But by morning break, she had gotten over herself, and sat with you and Roy on the brick wall outside of the school, complaining about the 'toxic' fumes emitting from your cigarettes, but she didn't even ask you to put them out. She was distant at best during all your classes, and was nowhere to be found at lunch. You had at first figured she was mad at you still, but Kory wasn't the type of person who could stay mad for over two hours. Something was bothering her.

At the end of the day, you and Roy sat outside the school as usual, him keeping you company as you waited for Alfred to come and pick you up. The two of you were passing around yet another cigarette, as Roy had smoked all his and you only had the one left. Dick would usually be with the two of you, preaching about lung cancer, but it was Tuesday, and Dick has Football practise on Tuesdays. Alfred was making two trips at first, but Dick insisted he take the bus home, to save hassle. That only made Alfred worry. Today it was you worrying, however, because the scarily punctual Englishman was late. And worry you did, for a good five minutes, until your phone blared from your pocket.

"Alfred?" You asked, practically pounding the answer button.

"Good afternoon, Master Jason."

"Where are you?" You demanded, perhaps a bit too forcefully. Alfred was unfazed.

"I am caught up at Wayne Enterprises. Master Bruce left some paperwork at home and I delivered it, but have been asked to stay a while lest he attack this particularly rude business partner." The emphasis he put on certain words led you to believe said business partner was perfectly capable of hearing the conversation. "I'll be there in ten minutes or so. Please pass the message on to your brother."

"He's at practise, Al. He'll be getting the bus later anyway."

"No, your other brother, sir." Alfred sighs. "I must go, a vase has been broken. Goodbye."

"See ya." You hang up., and look around, finally spotting Tim leaning against the school building, raven bangs flying wildly in the wind.

"Hey!" You yell, startling the boy. "Tim!"

You gesture for him to come join you, and he walks over and awkwardly plops himself on the pavement.

"Al's gonna be late," You inform him. "Something about Bruce beating up a business partner."

"Oh," Tim looks surprised. "Does he.. Do that often?"

"Probably." You shrug, taking a long drag before thrusting the cigarette in Tim's direction. "Wanna drag?"

He looks genuinely surprised for some reason, and trips over his words for a while before managing a small "No thank you."

You sit in silence until Roy finally crushes the cigarette beneath his foot. "So, how's your first days of school been? You're a freshman, right?" He asks, probably to kill the awkward mood.

"Yeah. Um, it's been alright. Today at lunch these two girls, I think they're in your grade, sort of forced us into sitting with them."

"Us?" You ask, smiling. For some reason a part of you was happy to hear the boy had made a friend so quickly.

"Um, yeah, me, Conner and Cassie." Tim smiled. "They sit either side of me in homeroom." That part of you stopped being happy. You only knew two freshmen with those names who hung around with each other. Conner Kent and Cassandra Sandsmark. Neither of them were very social and it certainly wasn't like them to play Janis and Damien to the new kids. Conner's dad and Cassie's foster mom were both family friends of Bruce's, and on many occasions Dick and you had tried to interact with them at get-togethers, only to be shot down with a cold glare or bitchy remark.

"Conner's a bit… cold, still." Tim sighs. "But Cassie's really nice, and both of their parents are friends with Bruce, which is really lucky! Anyway, these two redheaded girls made us sit with them and they kept asking about Bruce."

"What were they asking?" You raise an eyebrow, although you're fairly certain you know who Tim was talking about and what kind of things they were inquiring about.

"Like really weird crap. Like if he ever hurt us or, you know, abused us in any other way. I told them no, obviously, and eventually Conner told them where to stick their questions and we left, but…"

Your hands ball into fists, and you stand up too quickly, but you can't tell if that's why your vision is going blurry or if it's because you were ready to murder someone. You wheel around, and practically stomp back over to the school. You hear Roy telling Tim you'd be fine and not to let Bruce know.

You don't worry about Tim, Roy will wait with him until Alfred arrives, and explain the situation to the butler. You shove you're the school doors open, and your vision is just getting blurrier and blurrier until you find yourself making your way out to the Football Pitch, ignoring the protests and cusses as you walk right through a game. You approach the gawking teenagers, you spot the two smirking twins, their red hair and lipstick clashing horribly against their pasty white faces.

"I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from my family!" You shout, pointing at them.

"Looks like baby bird ratted us out." The first twin, Delia, giggles.

"What a tattle-tale." Her sister, Deirdre joins in.

"Just stop fucking with us!" You snap, resisting the urge to punch them both in their ugly, chalky faces. "What do you even have to gain?"

"Oh, honey." Delia smiles wickedly. "You know _exactly_ what we have to gain."

Deirdre and Delia Napier were the granddaughters of the CEO of Joker Inc, the arch-rival of Wayne Enterprises. The two had become the heiresses of the company when their parents died in a car crash seven years ago, and claimed all out war against Dick Grayson, the heir of their rival. They, quite like the rest of the Napier family, was hell-bent on soiling the name of Wayne Enterprises, and whilst their grandparents made false accusations of faulty goods and plagiarism, Delia and Deirdre's claims were the work of evil.

A couple years ago, on a particularly hot day, Dick, took off his shirt at practice for a Shirts vs Skins game, and Delia had noticed a rather large and fresh bruise across Dick's back, from the night his parents died. She wasted no time in reporting it to the Principle, which instigated a full-blown investigation on the Wayne household. You and Dick were taken away from Bruce for just over a month before there was enough evidence behind Bruce's claim. He may be a second-rate father, but he would never hurt any of you intentionally.

"Just, stay the fuck away from Tim, he's got enough going on right now." You threaten. "Or I swear to god I'll-"

"What? Cry to mommy?" Delia smirks, and she has a nasty look in her eyes. "Oh, wait."

You had morals. Normally. You would never hit a girl, especially one who was weaker than you. Normally. Fortunately, Dick placed a hand on your shoulder before you could even raise a fist.

"Get out of here Todd!" The coach shouts, and you're forced to leave.

You were never happier than when you got home. You immediately retreated to your bedroom and entertained yourself the same way you always did, playing online games with Roy for hours on end. But eventually Roy's dad calls him away, and you continue on the server a while, before giving up and shutting the laptop over. You lay down and your eyelids become heavy, but just as your falling asleep, your cellphone rings loudly.

You answer without checking the Caller ID, but as soon as you hear the accent, there's no doubt who it is.

"Jason?"

"What is it, Kory?" You ask groggily. You let your annoyance at being interrupted right before you fell alseep be heard.

"I did a really horrible thing and I think everybody found out." She sobs. As she tells you the story, your shoulders tense and your vision is blurry again, but this time there's no blaming it on being tired or standing up too quick, and by the end of the call, you were almost breaking the phone in half. You were going to fucking kill Wally West.


	4. Chapter 3

**Kings of the Air**

**Chapter 3**

As expected, the news that Kory had slept with Wally West, the pride and joy of Gotham High's Track and Field team and Dick Grayson's best friend, had spread around faster than the flu epidemic two semesters ago. As is the norm in these situations, Wally, being male, was congratulated for losing his virginity, whereas Kory was labelled a slut for the same reason. It wasn't fair and it infuriated you to no end. Along with his new 'hero' status, however, Wally acquired a broken nose, several facial bruises and a bloody lip, courtesy of yourself and Roy. Which, in retrospect, wasn't the best of ideas, as it resulted in a two day suspension and Kory having to face school alone. The cheerleaders had been giving her shit as it was, and they were having a field day with this.

Being home also gave you a better chance of confronting Dick, who had brought this whole incident on, or so you were inclined to believe. You had heard multiple versions of the story at this point, but you knew for sure that Kory and Wally had sex and Dick wasn't taking her to the dance anymore. She was hurt and upset because of him, and that was enough for you. So when he came back from school with Alfred and Tim that day, you waited for him as he came upstairs, and the pushed him hard against the foyer wall and slammed your arm under his chin.

"What the fuck?" He spluttered, grabbing at your arm and trying to pull it from under him.

"Do you think Kory's a toy? That you can just throw away when you get bored?"

"What?" He asked, confused. How the fuck could he be confused? "I didn't throw her away! She slept with my best friend, was I supposed to look past that?"

"Guys.." Tim said as he reached the top of the stairs. "What's going on?"

"She slept with Wally _because _you dumped her." You spat. "For Barbara Gordon, no less."

"Okay, what the fuck?" Dick managed to get your arm away from him and moved out of your reach. "That's bullshit. I haven't spoken to Barbara in like, two months."

"What, so Kory's lying then?" You scoff. "She's head over heels for you!"

"Guys." Tim said again, but it fell on deaf ears.

"I really liked her too! But she ruined things for me and for herself, so that's that." Dick ran his hands through his hair. "I know she's your friend and I know you don't like people fucking people you love over, but this is really none of your business."

You could have ripped his head off, but you were too confused to bother. Dick would gain nothing from lying, and despite his being a huge douche bag, he wasn't a liar, but why would Kory sleep with a boy she's never shown any interest in before, who'd kept a clean reputation and was noted for always being respectful of everyone, especially when she'd finally got the boy she'd be pining after since you met her? You didn't know who or what to believe, and so you did what you usually do when you don't understand. You lashed out.

"Whatever," You spat. "Have fun dancing with a cripple."

You realised you crossed a line when Dick punched you in the face. Dick wasn't a violent person. No sooner had you struck back when there was a force pushing you backwards, and Tim stood in between the two of you, arms outstretched, palms on your chests. His black hair covered his eyes and his breath was shallow, and he was paler than you'd ever seen. "I have no idea what's going on." Tim said, voice shaky, but not out of fear. He sounded furious. "And clearly the two of you have no idea either. But you're both acting like children. I mean seriously, look at yourselves. Jason, you have no right to make comments like that about anybody, it's disgusting and I thought you were above that. Dick, you know as well as I do that Jason says things he doesn't mean. You know that better than I do, in fact. Grow up, the two of you. You both have better things to worry about with who slept with who or why they did it, I'm sure. So sort yourselves out, ot stay out of each other's way untill you both learn to act your age." And with a final shove, he strut up to the next floor, leaving you and your brother gawking. You told yourself the strange feeling in the pit of the stomach was just shock, because somebody so introverted didn't just tell people off. Right? You took Tim's advise, though, and stayed clear of Dick for the rest of the day. It was easy enough when you spent the whole time in your bedroom. But your head was still reeling from the whole incident with Kory, paired with Tim's sudden outburst. Deciding the latter could be discussed later, you fished your phone from the crack between your bed and the wall, and dial Kory's number.

"Hello?" She picks up on the third ring, sounding exhausted.

"Hey, it's Jason. Was it bad today?"

"Well," She sighed. "I guess it wasn't all that bad. I got called a slut quite a lot, but not as much as yesterday."

"You're not a slut," You grimaced. There was a pause.

"I know." She said after a while.

"Has Wally said anything to you?" You asked. You swear to god if he's been talking shit about her…

"He tried to apologise, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," She laughed darkly. "He started coming up with some nonsensical story. I told him where to go."

"Good. I spoke to Dick today." When no answer came, you continued. "He said that you slept with Wally before Dick dumped you."

"Wait, what?" Came a shocked reply. You explained the entire conversation with Dick to her, leaving out the hitting and Tim's involvement. "What the-? Hold on, I'm gonna call you back, I need to talk to Wally."

"You have his number?" You asked incredulously.

"No, I'll get it from Rachel Roth, she's his friend. She may not give it to me, but I can try. I might be able to figure this out if I can get a hold of him." She quickly bid you goodbye, then hung up. She never did call back, so you guess she was either speaking to him pretty late or thinking about the whole situation. In any case, at least you knew she wasn't lying, and there was a probability Dick was telling the truth too. If it was all a misunderstanding, then maybe the two of them could attend the dance together after all. You didn't like it, but as long as they were happy- You mean as long as Kory is happy.

The next morning you took advantage of the day off of school and slept in past breakfast, but were awoken by Alfred, who insisted you get up and eat lunch. After you showered and got dressed and other boring morning things, you went downstairs to see a sandwich waiting for you on the breakfast bar. "Morning Al." You greeted.

"_Afternoon_, Master Jason. You may take your lunch up to your room, if you wish, so long as you do not make a mess." He says, not turning away from the bunker he was polishing.

"Nah, I'll stay down here. There's nobody I want to avoid here." You smirked, climbing up on a stool. "How are you?"

"I am well, thank you. Yourself?"

"Alright I suppose. I'm still pretty tired."

"Goodness knows how."

You took a bite from your sandwich. He had given you your favourite cheese. You love Alfred.

"Hey," You said after you had swallowed. "Have you noticed anything odd about Tim?"

"Nothing that springs to mind. He is very quiet, I've barely noticed much about him at all. Have you noticed anything?"

You pause for a second. Alfred would be disappointed to hear about you and Dick punching each other, and Tim may not want you blabbing about his little outburst. But at the same time, you were concerned and Alfred may know what's wrong and how to help it. It's Alfred, you reasoned, he probably heard it all anyway.

"He split up what would have been a fight between Dick and I yesterday, and he sounded… furious. I've only ever heard him mutter before, but this time his voice was really loud and shaky. It was completely out of character,"

"Well, I do know what Master Bruce has told me about his situation before coming to the manor, but not an awful lot. It's not my place to share the details, but to put it lightly, he is upset by violence."

"And to put it heavily?"

"… It triggers memories, sir. Memories that you should only hear from him, if he wishes to tell you." Alfred says firmly, and you take it to mean that he does not wish to talk about this any more.

"Got it." You say, and tuck into your sandwich.

After lunch, you return to your room once more. You realise how boring it is when everybody's at school and you're not. You know Roy's dad will have grounded him, and he was a lot harsher on him than Alfred was on you, so even communicating with him was out of the question. Eventually you concluded that the only thing there was to do was to sleep. And so you fell into the welcoming arms of slumber once again.

Except they weren't too welcoming this time around.

You were thirteen again and you were lying on your back on a mattress that had seen better days. The springs jabbed into your back like needles every time the faceless man thrust in and out of you. Your grip on the bed sheets tightened and your mind was racing a mile a minute. You felt the familiar rush of self-loathing and fear spread over your body. You don't know what you were afraid of per se, just that you were scared shitless. You wanted to die again. Stop, a voice in your head screamed. Stop stop please I hate this I can't do this anymore please stop please get off of me- As if a silent prayer had been answered, you fell though the mattress, though the floor. You were wearing clothes again and this time you were six years old, cowering under the bed as your parents screamed at each other. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you could still hear them. You allowed yourself to sob into your teddy bear, daddy usually told you big boys don't cry but this was different. You think he'd be okay with this. There was a loud crash and you think somebody hit the wall again. You curl up into a little ball, drawing the blanket tighter around your small frame. Why couldn't you be a happy family again? Why couldn't they take you to the park and the zoo again, why couldn't they buy you presents and cuddles anymore? Mommy was always crying and Daddy was always angry. It wasn't fair. The sound of a fist hitting flesh resounded across your head and you were fifteen again, in Alfred's car on the way home form the Die Antwoord concert, daydreaming about the girl who had given you a kiss on the cheek. Barbara and Alfred were making small talk as usual, and you were filled with a sense of serenity, but dread tugged at the back of you mind. Things were looking up at your life at that point. It had taken a lot of begging to be allowed to go to this concert, but it was worth it. You felt like you were truly, sincerely happy. Nothing could possibly bring your mood down. You remember thinking that exact thought because you have a dark sense of humour and the car belonging to the Napier family crashed into the side of yours as if to punctuate your sentence. You remember everything going blurry, the odd way Barbara's body bent, Alfred cussing. When you think you're about to die, you think funny things. You remember your last thought before blacking out was that Alfred sounded really weird saying the word shit.

Everything began to shake before you could fall back into another repressed memory, and your bedroom at the manor begun to form around you as you slowly opened your eyes to see Tim, schoolbag dumped on the floor beside him, blue eyes looking down at you worried.

"Sorry I woke you." He says nervously. "You were… screaming in your sleep. I heard you as I walked past and well.. I thought it'd be best to wake you up.

You pull yourself up and lean your head against the headboard, sighing deeply. You feel the sweat on your forehead, and note exasperatedly that you're going to have to take another shower. "Could you pass the cigarettes on my chest of drawers, please? The lighter, too."

He does, and watches you as you light up, before perching on the end of your bed. You put your cigarette to your mouth and inhale longer than is probably healthy. Not that smoking is healthy in any way, but still.

"Wanna talk about it?" Tim offers, looking at you sadly.

You shake your head.

Tim shuffles up the bed, and takes one of your wrists in his hands. That would usually leave you uncomfortable, but it didn't bother you this time. His touch is gentle, but sparks run all the way up your arm.

"If you don't want to tell me, I completely get that. But know that I'm always here to listen. I know we barely know each other, but I lost my parents too, and I definitely wouldn't judge you for anything." He offers a gentle smile, and for a minute you almost open up to him, but you stop yourself. He would judge you. He has no idea what you did. How _couldn't _he judge you? You take another drag. Don't get close to him, you warn yourself. He's too innocent, too precious to be exposed to somebody like you. A disgusting creature like yourself.

You pull your wrist away, maybe a bit too roughly, and look at him. "What I want to know is what was with your little temper tantrum yesterday?"

"Temper tantrum?" He spits, looking hurt. "I was stopping the two of you from making fools out of yourselves! You pinned Dick against a wall!"

"Yeah, but I had a reason for that. You just kind of snapped."

"Reason to be angry my ass-"

"The fuck are you to tell me what I can and can't get angry over?"

"I could ask you the same question!"

You didn't realise you were moving closer to him, but the younger boy's icy blue eyes were staring straight into yours. You don't know what compelled you to do it, probably his eyes, but you placed your hand under his chin and pulled his lips to yours. He tasted like cherry and when his initial shock wore off, he began to kiss back. It was heaven and- Holy shit, what were you doing? With a start, you pushed him away.

"Get out." You coughed, avoiding looking at the boys face. You feel the weight on the mattress shift, and he picks up his schoolbag and walks to the door.

"Stop being afraid of being close to people, Jason. We're just trying to help." And with a slam of the door, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 4

Kings of the Air

Chapter 4

"Wow, Timmy, I didn't know you had it in you!"

"It's _Tim_, for the hundredth time, and I don't have it in me. I already told you, he kissed me."

In one of your more indignant displays, you were hovering outside the closed door to Tim Drake's bedroom, listening him discuss last night's… whatever that was with Cassandra and Conner. Part of you was annoyed that he chose to confide in the bitch and her guard dog, but you couldn't really fault him for having friends, even if you wanted them to die in a fire.

"So does this mean you're gay?" Came an excited voice that could only belong to Cassie.

"Um… No?" Tim's voice was difficult to hear, but he sounded kind of sad. "I don't know? I mean, he was the one who started the kiss, but he also ended it… But I really don't think I'm gay. Maybe bi?"

"You don't actually have to label your sexuality." After Cassie's high pitched enthusiasm and Tim's soft nervousness, the ever-confident baritone that was Conner Kent's voice was pretty tough to listen to. Easy to hear, but hard on the ears. "Just kiss whoever you want."

"Thanks for the support, but you're both completely missing the point. I didn't want to kiss him, and I was hoping you guys could maybe help me figure out why he wanted to kiss me."

The conversation did nothing but remind you that you kissed a boy and should probably be questioning your own sexuality right now, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. Sure, it was confusing, but it took a backseat to helping Kory out and finding out what happened to Tim, the latter of which was getting more and more unlikely to happen.

"Well, he was having a nightmare, right?" Cassie sounded a lot less excited now. "He was most likely scared and confused. It was probably just a spur of the moment thing."

God dammit, Tim, the last thing you need is Tweedledee and Tweedledumb knowing that you were having nightmares.

"Yeah, I mean no offence, but he was probably just glad to have somebody who was there for him."

"But we argued first." You hear Tim exhale. "I told him he could talk to me and he reacted by lashing out at me then fucking kissing me."

They talk aimlessly for a while, and you kind of zone out, reliving the steak Alfred made for dinner. You must have been fantasizing about that steak for ages because you didn't notice the door being pulled open, but you did notice the broad-shouldered boy towering over you.

"Jason." He greeted, smirking. Tim's room was on the very top floor at the back of the house, next to a library that wasn't really necessary (The was a much bigger one on the second floor.) and an observatory. There was literally no reasonable excuse for you being up here, and now that you think about it, you don't remember even coming up in the first place. "Eavesdropping?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Kent. I was looking for a book. It wasn't downstairs."

There was a flash and blonde and you inwardly groaned. "You can read?" Cassie asked, suddenly joining Conner in the doorway. You flip her off and turn on your heels.

"Wait, Jay!" Tim pushes past the duo. His hear is messy and he has bags under his eyes, it's a striking difference to the pretty much perfect boy you'd grown used to seeing. "I… Well, we… Um…" He bites his lip. "What book? I took a bunch of them out the library last night"

"Doesn't matter, and don't call me Jay."

He opens his mouth to reply and you phone rings, cutting him off. Kory had finally decided to get back to you, it seemed. You raise the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Jason, come over to my house." She demands and hangs up. You'd be annoyed if she hadn't gotten you out of an awkward conversation.

"Sorry to cut this short, but I'm needed elsewhere." You I've a two fingered salute. "Tim. Thing One, Thing Two. It's been nice."

Cassie wrinkles her nose and Conner juts out his chin because you're being a douche bag, so you turn once more and run down the stairs uninterrupted, and pull on the Vans at the doorway which Alfred has asked you to take upstairs with you half an hour ago.

"Going somewhere?" Comes a gruff voice. This fucking house.

"I'm going to Kory's house for a while."

"What for?" Bruce asks, but he seems to be in an okay mood, so you don't think you're in trouble this time.

"To slaughter her little brother and use his innards as a sacrifice to the pagan gods." You say, shrugging your leather jacket over your shoulders.

"I'm serious,"

"Just to hang out." You look at him and he frowns. You cock your head. "Why?"

"Dick told me about her." He says with distaste. "What she did."

For fuck sake.

"She's not like anything. This whole thing as a big misunderstanding."

"I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

"Bruce, this is my best friend," You scoff. "You don't need to worry about me fucking her."

Bruce's lips tighten. "Language."

"Nothing you haven't heard before, old man."

"That's beside the point. Be back by eleven. Have fun."

"I will."

"Use protection."

"Bite me."

Kory's house was small. Two other houses were joint to it at each side, and it was just outside the narrows. You wish you could buy her a new one in a safer area, god knows Bruce could afford it, but you couldn't really ask him to do something like that and her family would refuse even if you did. The interior was pleasant, though. It was a home.

The door opened almost as soon as you knocked, and Kory pulled you into the house.

"Leave your shoes at the door, please." She calls, running up the stairs.

"What the hell is your rush?" You shout after her, kicking off your shoes. A pair of bright red hightops catch your eye. They were way too big to fit Ryand'r, and too flashy for Roy. Next to them was a pair of black creepers, neatly stacked on top of one another. Kory has other friends?

"Who else is here?" You ask, ascending the stairs. You enter her very pink bedroom, and sitting cross legged on the floor is a redheaded boy with a black eye and a sheepish grin. Next to him is a pale girl with wavy purple hair and a bindi, but you don't care about her.

"Um, you know Wally." Kory motions to the boy. "And this is Rachel Roth, she's in my PE class, we skip together."

"I know them." You scoff. "They're Dick's cronies."

Wally's grin disappears. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"That you follow his orders without question." You sneer. "He keeps you around because you'll do what he asks and tell him he's pretty when he asks."

"Yeah?" Wally snaps, jumping to his feet. "At least he wants us around!"

"As if I give a fuck about what he wants. Why the fuck would I care about a narcissistic, spoiled brat?"

Wally opens his mouth, but a sarcastic drawl fills the room.

"Green isn't your colour."

You look down at the girl who's still sitting on the floor, and that stupid jewel on her head glints in the light as she looks back at you. You couldn't think of any comeback because you are jealous of Dick, so you turn to Kory instead.

"I'm leaving."

"No, you aren't."

"Don't try to make me stay here, they hate me and I hate them. I'm leaving."

"What, do you honestly think I called you here to introduce you?" Kory runs a hand through her hair. "The entire student body either hates me or is trying to get in my pants, and I'm sorting it out one way or another. I could use your help, but I don't need it. I do need theirs. You can either sit down and be civil for once in your life or leave."

You grumble, but you sit down on her bed anyway. With a relieved smile she joins you,

"Okay." She starts. "Okay. So I cheated on Dick, that much is obvious."

You gape at her. "What? But you were so-"

"I didn't know." She interrupts. "Wally told me Dick had gotten with Barbara Gordon who, by the way, plays no role in this, I doubt she even knows about it, and I was very sad and confused and I felt unwanted, and Wally comforted me. We left school at lunch and didn't go back. Instead we went to his house, where we.. You know. Fucked."

Your fists curl up into balls and the edge of your vision goes white. You're about to stand up and knock the bastard out, but Kory's slender fingers curl around your wrist, and things feel a little bit better,

"I didn't really do it out of malice or anything." The redhead says quietly, staring at his lap. "It's just… fuck, I don't know. I really like her. I have since she first moved here. And I'd gotten in a fight with Dick and I was angry and upset and I saw her and she smiled at me and… Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"So it was malicious, then." You snarl. "You manipulated her into sleeping with you to hurt Dick."

"No." His head shot up. "No, I'd never want to hurt him. But I was so angry at him that I didn't really feel guilty and-"

"What Wally is trying to say is that he was unstable, felt no loyalty to Dick, and didn't think about what he was doing untill he'd done it." Rachel says, not looking up from her striped tights.

You blinked. "Oh." And you're still pissed but you know you have a nerve to be, because you do things like that all the time.

"See?" Kory perks up. "It's all a misunderstanding!"

That was Koriand'r Tamaran's fatal flaw. She was too loving, too forgiving. You could slaughter her family before her eyes and she'd be your best friend if she believed your apology was sincere.

"It's more than that." You bit your lip. "He's clearly apologetic and not as much of a douchebag as I thought-he's still a douchebag, mind you- but he's still in the wrong, and half the school isn't going to buy this."

Kory's shoulders slump a bit. "I guess you're right."

"What I wanna know is," You look over to Wally. "If you didn't do this to hurt Dick and you weren't talking, why did you tell him?"

"I didn't." He grimaces. "The only person I told was Gar, because it was eating at me."

Gar, you assume, is Garfield Logan, this weird vegan kid who comes over from time to time. Alfred always prays he won't stay for dinner. He hasn't stayed since the time Alfred caught him with his phone out at the table, though. That shows him to instagram his meals.

"So Gar told him?" Kory asks.

"No." Rachel said firmly. "No, Garfield came straight to me after he found out, and he made me swear not to tell Dick. He wouldn't."

"Where were you when he told you?" You demand.. "And who else was around?"

"It was during study hall. It was just me, the Napier twins, and a girl I didn't really recognise. I think she was a fresh-"

"There we go then." You throw your hands in the air."Delia and Deirdre are forever fucking with Dick. They must have overheard you."

"Why wouldn't they tell him I was lying though? That was probably what Gar started with." Wally looked to Rachel, who nodded in confirmation. "This makes no sense."

He was correct, (First time for everything) and no matter how much you all discussed, there was no better conclusion than 'they did it to mess with Dick's head' and eventually Rachel had to leave. Wally followed soon after, and Kory returned from the walking him to the door with a soft smile. Even now, with her hair falling wildly down her back, wearing no make-up and an oversized hoodie, with a pair of ridiculous gym shorts with the logo of some obscure alternative band on the ass, she was still one of, if not the, most beautiful girls you'd ever seen.

"You know," You say, looking up at her. "You didn't tell me what it was I could do to help."

She beams. "So you will, then?"

"Of course."

"Well, I know you won't like it, but I need you to talk to Dick. Find out how he's feeling, where he heard it, just his whole opinion. And please don't hit him."

"No promises about the last part," You say, and when she frowns you tack on, "But I'll see what I can do."

"I appreciate it." She allows herself to flop backwards onto the bed. "Where's Roy? I called him but he didn't pick up."

"Oliver's got him under house arrest for the weekend." You smirk.

She looks over to you and her face splits into a wicked grin, and your insides flutter a bit.

"Well, I'm stressing the fuck out, and you're troubled by something-"

"No I'm not." You defend automatically.

"Do you lie to Alfred with that mouth?" A carefully shaped eyebrow is raised.

"Sometimes I even get away with it." You shoot back.

"Well, _I_ see right through you, Todd. But we'll come back to that. Mum, Dad and Ryand'r are at some lame concert, they took Dad's car. Mum left hers. What do you say we rescue Princess Roy from her tower and go on an adventure?"


End file.
